


Babysitter

by NightmareWolf



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Comedy, Fluff, M/M, just bein gay, saloonatics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-21
Updated: 2019-08-21
Packaged: 2020-09-23 07:17:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20336242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightmareWolf/pseuds/NightmareWolf
Summary: Thompson is a sheriff, and is good with people.Edward? Not so much.





	Babysitter

**Author's Note:**

> love the yeehaw gays

"I must say, I don't fancy this heat at _all._"

Edward sucked in a large inhale, releasing it all in the same breath as he sighed. The hot air did nothing for his lungs, as it felt like the sun was still beating down on him even with the added shade from his hat. He remembered on his first trip to America how his twin brother, Eddins, criticized how tacky and inappropriate the "cowboy" attire was. But Edward assured it was not an every day outfit, and it merely served for him to blend in well with the Americans. This holds true; it's not an outfit Edward would consider wearing any normal day in England, but he had grown a bit fond of it. Ever since his first trip to America in which he rescued the royal prince, Edward had found himself returning again and again all just to meet the sheriff. As such, he decided it would only be polite to keep up his _American _look. He wondered if it was a bad thing meeting Thompson all the time. The locals of the small town have learn his name and face; would they grow suspicious, given Edward was not here for detective work, merely a visit? He was quite fond of the sheriff—maybe _too _fond, as his brother chastised—but he couldn't stay away. Like a magnet, Thompson made Edward keep coming back, his hospitality almost outweighing the homesickness he felt for England each time the sun burned his skin.

"You say that everytime." Snapped from his thoughts, Edward turned his attention to the sheriff who was feeding grain to his horse. 

"I suppose I do," Edward conceded sheepishly. "I can never get used to it, not when England is so somber." 

"More like a downer, I don't know how ya can stand the cold and lack 'a sunlight." Thompson shook his head. "Sometimes I think 'yer all vampires." 

"_I _don't know how you stand the heat. I'm melting!" Edward countered, tugging uncomfortably at his bandana. With how much sweat was rolling down his neck, he wondered if it'd do any good to take it off. Yet, somehow, he found that it would feel awkward to not sport it with the rest of his outfit. 

"You get used 'ta it," Thompson replied back, to which Edward sighed doubtfully. Wishing to distract himself from the crippling heat, he paced forward and reached his hand out, running it down the short fur of the horse. It was a deep, chocolate brown horse with a long black mane. A female, if Edward recalled correctly.

"You never told me," Edward spoke up, "what is your horse's name? She has one, does she not?"

"Her? Oh, yeah." Thompson flicked his hat up. "I jus' call her Horse."

"...Horse?"

"Horse. Stead. Lassie," he reaffirmed.

_Pfft. _Edward snorted with amusement. "Great names as always with you. If you had a child, would you name him _Kid?_"

"Course not!" Thompson shot back with irritation, though Edward has known the sheriff long enough to be able to tell that he was not _actually _offended by his words. "I'd put some work into namin' a kid. But a horse is a horse." he paused. "If I had a boy, I'd name him William, I reckon."

"Really?" Edward hummed curiously. "And a girl?"

Another pause. "Marie," he answered. "Knew a nice girl named that once."

Edward gave a verbal "huh", genuinely surprised Thompson had given thought to the subject. "Well, I don't like children much; don't think I'll ever have any."

"Really? But you act like a kid yer'self," Thompson replied back teasingly, if only to mask his thinly veiled surprise. Edward understood why: he was energetic, loud, naive, and playful. _He_ himself was like a kid. And yet..

"Nope," Edward awkwardly shrugged. 

"Hey, I can't blame ya," Thompson suddenly conceded. "I doubt I'll ever find a girl." His words trailed off into a shameful silence, and Edward couldn't help but feel sympathetic. It wasn't like Thompson didn't have many options. In fact, many considered him to be a ladies man. As the sheriff, he was quite popular with everyone, especially women, but he and Edward held a secret together that could never be released to the public—or anyone. Only Edward's brother knows, and that was on accident. Thankfully, he was okay with it, and promised to keep it a secret, even if he disliked the idea of his brother being with an American.

"But, that don' matter," Thompson stood up straight, his voice pulling Edward out of his thoughts once more, stretching up to give Edward a quick peck on the cheek. "I've got you, doll."

"Th-Thanks..." An intense blush not fault of the sun's heat engulfed Edward's cheeks and a soft grin crept onto his face. Nervously, he had to advert his eyes before he found himself getting too caught up in Thompson's sweet talk. 

But only a few moments passed before a call rang out,

"Sheriff Thompson! Sheriff!"

At first, Edward became nervous and scared; afraid somebody had seen them. But, he saw it was merely two children racing towards the fence that encased Thompson's stead, and where he and Edward currently stood. If they _had _seen them, they didn't show they had. But considering how one was _crying_...Edward doubted they saw. Engrossed in his own thoughts, Edward didn't catch Thompson jumping over the fence to meet the children. Walking around so he could leave through the fence gate, he caught words of the conversation.

"Help! Sheriff, help..." the child, a little girl no older than nine, was sobbing. Edward saw Thompson crouch down to reach her level, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"It's alright, Rose. What happened?" he addressed gently. Edward was almost surprised by the fact Thompson knew her name, but then he recalled how small this town was, and how normal it must be for him to recognize each citizen by name.

"He—Henry, he...he's stuck up in a tree!" the little girl sobbed.

_Stuck up in a tree? _Edward thought with disbelief. _All this crying over a minuscule tree! _Curiously, he wondered how the sheriff would react. After all, Thompson had to deal with bandits and murders, surely such a small problem would be blown off?

But to Edward's surprise, Thompson continued to hush Rose. "It's alright, it's alright..." he cooed.

"It's my fault," the other kid guiltily admitted. He was a little older than Rose, Edward determined. Maybe eleven. "We were hungry, and the tree had some apples, so I told Henry to go get them..." he shifted his foot against the course dirt, looking at drought-ridden soil with regret. "I'm sorry, Sheriff."

"That was a bit reckless, Charles," Thompson politely addressed the other child. "But no one blames ya, 'specially with farmin' bein' so cruddy this year. Let's go get your brother, alright?"

Edward blinked, almost too bewildered to put one foot in front of the other, and he found himself nearly tripping. But, he trailed behind Thompson, who offered to hold Rose's hand so she would stop crying. Edward was secretly glad; her wails were beyond infuriating to listen to. All the while, Charles lead the way. There were very few tress where the town was located. It seemed it was just sand, dirt, sparse plains and mountains for miles. However, there was a small cluster of greenery at the edge of town—some ferns and, yes, tress. It was a long ways away from Thompson's home, where they initially began walking, and having to listen to Charles's anxious babbling and Rose's sniffling was nearly enough to compel him to haul his ass to the saloon and get himself drunk. But, he stuck around for Thompson. He'd need some help, anyway.

When they finally reached the specific tree Henry was stuck in, Edward was a little more than exasperated by its height. The pale tree stood only a little twice Edward's size, a drop from the top of it would be no more than eight feet. "Really?" he muttered aloud. "I expected this tree to be bigger. You're telling me he got stuck in _this _sapling?"

"Kids are kids," Thompson replied back, seemingly indifferent to Edward's annoyance. "I'm gon' get Henry down. Mind lookin' after the kids?"

Trying not show his displeasure, Edward agreed. "...Sure."

As Thompson let go of Rose's hand and began to effortlessly climb the tree, he heard the little girl beginning to cry again. 

"Ohh, I hope Henry is okay!" tears raced down her soft cheeks, and she turned to Charles, her fingers curled in a fist and wailing. "I'll never forgive you if he's hurt!"

"I'm sorry. But he shouldn't be hurt! He's just stuck. Sheriff Thompson will know what to do," the boy tried to reassure her.

Alas, Rose continued to sob. "But what if he can't save him?"

"He can save him, it's just a tiny tree," Edward responded to her, suppressing not only an eye roll but the urge to yell. "See? He's up there with him right now. He'll bring him down."

"Guys!" Edward's attention snapped to another little boy, around Charles age, who had his arms hugged around his chest, carrying several apples. "I got the apples!"

"Henry's got the apples!" Charles echoed with awe.

"Apples!" Rose cheered, sniffling.

_Way to go, _Edward sarcastically replied in his head.

As the two made their way down the tree, Thompson carrying Henry, Charles turned to Rose and said, "see? I told you it'd be okay."

"Only because we have Sheriff Thompson! Henry would still be stuck without him!" she teared up again as she spoke.

"Look—Henry's not stuck anymore, okay? No need to cry about it," Edward finally snapped. He didn't know if he could bare hearing the girl wail a hundredth time about some non-existent danger.

Unfortunately, the raise in tone made Rose sob. "But he could've been hurt!" she protested.

Edward was about to snap back with another response, but Henry came bumbling towards them. "Apples!" he announced, seeming unaffected by Rose's cry. He gave one to Charles and one to Rose. Edward noticed, too, he gave one to Thompson.

Though unlike Edward himself, Thompson was actually smiling. He watched the sheriff crouch down to speak with the children, congratulating Henry on his bravery but advising them to not climb trees without their parents supervising.

"It was stupid. We won't do it again!" Charles promised quickly.

"No more trees," Rose agreed with a sniffle, munching at her apple. 

Thompson nodded approvingly. He looked back at Henry, who held the rest of the apples in his arm like some sort of treasure stash. "Thank you for the apple, Henry." Thompson dipped his head. "Do ya want to give one to Edward?" he asked, motioning over to the detective.

Henry stared at Edward with mild contemplation and blinked, but soon was shaking his head. "No," he declined. "He made Rose cry."

"He did!" Charles chimed in.

Edward, frankly, was mildly taken aback by the children's sudden and bold accusation. Furthermore because they weren't actually _wrong_. He blinked several times, feeling heat itch under his clothing as embarrassment enfolded within him, like the shame a petty thief would feel. Being tattled on by children, and making one cry! Definitely _not _a good look. For once, he felt sympathetic for the children, and wondered despairingly if Thompson would be mad with his inability to handle them.

But the sheriff just nodded, a look of amusement in his good eye. "You have some fair judgement," he spoke, standing up straight. "You kids get home safely now, alright?"

"Yes! Thank you, Sheriff!" Charles responded with a mouthful of apple. The other two kids followed after him, bouncing away gleefully and munching on their fruit.

Once they were far enough in the distance where they couldn't hear them, Edward sighed and quickly turned to the other, head low. "Thompson, I—"

"'s alright," Thompson dismissed, guessing what the other was going to say long before he opened his mouth. "It's why _I'm _a sheriff, and you're not."

Edward rubbed his arm self-consciously, breathing out a couple nervous giggles. "I guess that is true...so...you're not mad?"

"Mad?" a look of disbelief—and humor—sparkled in Thompson's eye. "Kid, you'd _know _if I were mad. Ain't nothin' to sweat over. But I'm assumin' after that ya want some _adult _time now, huh?"

A blush blazed across Edward's cheeks, both at Thompson's implications and his general embarrassment, but he couldn't keep himself from chuckling. "You can say that," he admitted lightheartedly. Daring to take hold of the sheriff's hand, he suggested, "how about we get some drinks?"

And to Edward's glee, Thompson squeezed his hand, smiling back. "That sounds like a good plan."


End file.
